


Liebestraum

by Trebla



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Christmas, F/F, F/M, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-07
Updated: 2010-12-07
Packaged: 2017-10-23 02:03:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/245016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trebla/pseuds/Trebla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a chilly Christmas Eve, Sirius Black makes a trek into the Muggle world to see his closest friend perform- and maybe to stir up a little Christmas magic, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Liebestraum

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not gonna lie, it's pure, unadulterated fluff. But then again, that's what I specialize in, so it should be a given at this point...  
> The song used in the story exists. It's Liebestraum, or "Love Dream" in English. It's by Franz Liszt, and I highly suggest you look it up, it's very pretty. :D  
> Enjoy!

The dark-haired teenage boy stalked down the street, head down and leather jacket pulled close against the biting wind which swept down the cobbled streets. People who saw him coming hurried to be out of his way, but he ignored them. Stopping in front of a brightly lit building sandwiched between an apartment complex and a barber's shop, the boy pushed his messy hair out of his face and pulled a scrap of paper out of his pocket, squinting at it in the light from the marquee attached to the front of the building. The letters on its surface proclaimed that this night, Christmas Eve, was the night that a very talented, very young pianist would be featured for all of their enjoyment, as well as other, less important orchestras and the like.

Sirius Black glanced up at the marquee and down at his scrap of paper, frowning. "Looks like the place," he muttered to himself at last, stuffing the paper back into his pocket and stepping inside.

The theatre was rather well-kept, if a bit on the shabby side, with a freshly cleaned red carpet under his feet and gold-striped wallpaper covering the walls. There was a long coat rack off to one side, already full of the coverings of people inside the theatre itself, mostly upper class, by the quality of the garments. Sirius' fingers itched to take a poke through a couple of those velvet-lined pockets, but he held himself in check with a sigh. He didn't want to ruin his friend's performance by getting himself arrested, and the doorman in the corner was eyeing him with suspicion, anyhow.

Brushing the snow out of his hair and stomping his feet a few times on the carpet, leaving behind dirty snow stains where he'd stood, Sirius strode over to the closed doors and put an ear to them. He was running a bit late, but it didn't sound as though he'd missed the start of the performance, as he could still hear the murmur of people inside.

Giving a nod and a grin to the doorman, who was still frowning at him with dislike, Sirius promptly picked the man's pocket on his way in, earning himself a program of the show.

Sidling in and closing the door quietly, Sirius forwent the option of sitting in the back row for leaning against the wall, leafing through the program and glancing up at the stage. The show had not yet begun, but Remus was already on the stage, sitting on the edge of the bench and looking anxious. His hands twisted around nervously, and his dark eyes flitted frequently around the crowded room, searching for someone. Sirius stood a little straighter and moved closer into the light, allowing for himself to become more visible.

His leather motorcycle jacket and his untidy mop of hair must have been what set him apart, because Remus' eyes alighted on him almost instantly, and the change in him was almost as immediate. He relaxed visibly, and stopped twisting his hands. Sirius grinned widely and gave his friend a little wave, which Remus' returned a bit less enthusiastically, smiling sheepishly at the Animagus boy. The bright lights of the stage made his normally pale complexion even more bleached of color, and he looked small and sickly on the stage, the huge grand piano sitting in front of him dwarfing him even more. Sirius' heart went out to the boy, and he wished there was some form of encouragement he could shout, but he didn't want to get himself thrown out of the establishment, which would only distress the werewolf further. He promised himself he'd make it up to Remus after the show. What he was going to do, he had no idea, but he was usually pretty good at thinking on his feet.

Suddenly the lights dimmed, and the crowd went silent. All eyes were on Remus now, who shakily turned to face the sleek black piano in front of him. He took a gulping breath, and Sirius bit his lip, watching his friend's fingers fumble on the keys. Did he forget the song? Was he going to choke?

Sirius found Remus' eyes over the expectant crowd and gave him a warm smile and a thumbs up. Slowly nodding in return, Remus turned back to the keys and closed his eyes.

The first notes were slow, slower than usual, but he picked up the melody after a few bars. Sirius watched as the tension melted out of Remus' shoulders, and a small smile graced his lips. It was just he and the piano now.

What had before seemed clumsy, twiglike digits that had been unable to carry a tune, Remus' fingers were now transformed into slender tools of beauty. They caressed each key with the gentleness of touching a lover, and Sirius found himself wishing he could feel that sweet touch gracing his skin, as well.

Shaking his head and clearing his throat loudly, causing several people to turn and glare at him, Sirius turned his gaze firmly to the floor, refusing to let such thoughts get to him. _What is wrong with me?_ his mind wailed, but of course, he already knew the answer. That kind of thing usually happened when you fell in love with your best friend.

Remus poured his soul into the music, reaching a beautiful crescendo of sweet tones before dropping off back into tender melodies that did strange things to Sirius' stomach. Looking at his friend, his eyes closed, between his brows the tiniest crease of concentration, his fingers dancing over the keys as easily as breathing, gave Sirius a fluttery feeling that made his hands tingle.

He frowned at his own silly, girlish reactions before sighing and running a hand through his hair. That boy just did weird things to him, there was nothing to do about it. But Jesus, did he have to be so damn innocent about it? Rubbing a hand over his eyes, Sirius pushed all thoughts to the back of his head and listened to the end of the piece, a gentle decline into silence, completed with a softly-touched chord that hung in the air for a moment before fading into the silence.

It was quiet for a moment. Then, suddenly, the whole hall burst into cheers and racorous applause as people surged to their feet. Sirius grinned and clapped along with them, adding a few wolf-whistles for good measure. Remus, looking somewhat shellshocked, stood and bowed somewhat unsteadily, as though the sheer weight of the praise was pushing him off-balance. He exited, and so did Sirius, grinning widely at the doorman, who gave him a somewhat puzzled look at this cheerful greeting.

Settling himself against the wall, Sirius didn't have long to wait. Slipping through the spaces in between the departing crowd, bundling themselves up in preparation for the outside chill, Remus managed to worm his way over to Sirius before too many people noticed his presence.

"Let's get out of here," he said, ducking as another group of well-dressed socialites passed by, laughing and talking together without taking any notice of the two scruffy boys standing in the corner. "People keep trying to shake my hand and give me money. They think I'm one of those child prodigies who lives on moldy bread and cheese and taught myself to play piano until we had to burn it for firewood."

Sirius let out a bark of laughter as they ventured out into the cold, striking off into the opposite direction from the way most of the performance-watchers were headed. "They have no idea," he said, grinning at Remus and shoving his hands in his pocket as they walked. Remus nodded.

"I didn't realize I looked so much like a street urchin," he said, looking down at himself. He was dressed simply, in and a gray woolen sweater with a brown jacket thrown over top. His scarf, emblazoned with Gryffindor colors, was wound around his neck. Sirius shrugged.

"I think they view anybody who isn't as rich as they are that way," he said. "It probably offended their refined sensibilities to even step into that theatre." He said the last bit with an overexaggerated snooty attitude, sticking his nose into the air and putting his hands on his hips, swaying them as he walked. Remus laughed, and Sirius grinned at him, abandoning the act and shoving his hands back in his pockets.

They were silent for a while, the only sound being their feet on the sidewalk. A light snow had begun to fall, covering the dirty black street snow with a fresh, powdery covering of white. Everything seemed to have stopped to watch the falling crystals; no cars drove by on the street, and there were no other people to break the silence. Sirius glanced out of the corner of his eye and saw that flakes of snow were landing in Remus' soft brown hair. He had to resist the urge to brush them away himself, digging his fingernails into the flesh of his palms. Remus looked around admiringly, unaware of his best friend's inner turmoil.

"I wonder if that _Muffliato_ spell you and James found on Snape was based upon the muffling effects of snow," he mused aloud. Sirius shook his head.

"Nah, it's more likely based off the sound you hear after pressing your ears to a guitar amp turned on high for ten minutes," he said, with a lopsided grin. Remus rolled his eyes and smiled.

"So," he said a moment later, "How...did you think I was?"

He looked anxious, as though Sirius' opinion was more important to him than any of the people crowding the theatre earlier. Sirius felt a warm glow wash over him, and he answered kindly, "It was fantastic, mate. I've never heard anyone play like that before."

To his surprise, Remus blushed. "Nah, it wasn't that good..." he muttered, looking at the ground. "I mean, I screwed up in the beginning, and I was rushing it..." Sirius rolled his eyes.

"Moony, I was _there._ I know what talent sounds like. And you've got it, I promise on my old hag of a mother." Sirius grinned and crossed his heart. Remus smiled slightly.

"So...you really thought I was good?" he asked again, his eyes staring into Sirius' earnestly. Sirius fought the sudden terrible urge to do... _something_ , probably indecent, and still managed to speak normally.

"At the risk of sounding redundant, yes, Moony, you were fantastic. Excellent, exquisite, played with more feeling than what the original composer put into it," he said, raising his eyebrows at his friend. Remus smiled a little wider.

"Thanks, Padfoot," he said, turning his eyes back to the concrete. "That really means a lot, you know."

Sirius shrugged, suddenly embarrassed, and silence fell between them once more. Sirius glanced at his watch. Eleven fifteen. They still had forty-five minutes before they had to be back at Hogwarts. This trip into the Muggle world had been granted by Dumbledore himself, but they were to be back at midnight, he said, or there would be... consequences.

"Not that we haven't faced those before or anything," Sirius had muttered to Remus on their way out, to which he had chuckled and agreed with a bob of his head.

Frowning now, Sirius realized that he had no idea what Muggles did at eleven fifteen at night on Christmas Eve. He opened his mouth to ask Remus, when he realized that the werewolf boy was shivering with cold. Nearly smacking his forehead at his stupidity, Sirius suggested that they step inside one of the small cafes that lined the street they were walking on. Remus agreed immediately, and Sirius picked one at random, stepping inside and out of the bitter cold.

A little bell chimed on the door as they walked in, and an annoyed-looking waitress poked her head out of the door that led to the kitchens.

"We're closed," she snapped. Sirius smiled at her charmingly, and with a flick of his wand, Confounded her.

"Don't worry about us, we won't be in your way," he told her in a soothing voice. "Just get my friend here some hot chocolate, and you can go home."

The waitress frowned for a moment, thinking that over. "I...guess that's okay," she said at last. "One minute, please." She disappeared back behind the kitchen door.

Remus was glaring at him. Sirius smiled innocently, tucking his wand back in his pocket. "What?"

"You know what," Remus snapped. "You shouldn't have done that, what if we get in trouble now?"

Sirius shrugged. "I am seventeen now," he pointed out. "I didn't actually hurt the girl, and I can undo the charm when we leave. Easy-peasy, and no harm done. Alright, mate?"

Remus was still frowning. "I still don't like it," he muttered. But he settled down in his seat and voiced no further complaints.

Smiling benignly, Sirius took a flask out of his pocket and unscrewed the cap, tipping the liquid contained inside into his mouth.

"Ah, firewhisky," he sighed happily, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "Maybe not the strongest stuff in the world, but much, much better than that hippogriff wash the Muggles drink. Disgusting, and much too weak."

Remus sighed and rubbed his temples. "Are you determined to make sure we will never get to go on trips like this again?" he asked, resting his head in his hand and staring wearily at his shameless companion. Sirius grinned and shoved the firewhiskey under his friend's nose.

"'Course not. But a little drink never did anybody any harm, did it?" he asked, retracting the flask and tipping more of it into his mouth. "Warms you up quick, you know."

Remus shook his head firmly. "I don't think so," he said. "You can drink all you want, and when I'm dragging your unconscious body down the street, through the snow and muck, because I'm still sixteen and can't use magic outside of Hogwarts, I'll be sure to remember what you said about drinking never doing anybody harm."

Sirius sighed, looking at his friend. The waitress appeared out of nowhere and placed a steaming mug of hot chocolate onto the table in front of them before disappearing again. Surprisingly, the drink looked decent, thick with chocolaty swirls and creamy foam. Remus wrapped his long fingers around the mug and lifted it to his nose, breathing in the aroma with delight. Sirius chuckled, watching him, and the boy shot him a baleful look before putting the mug to his lips.

Swirling the firewhiskey in his flask, Sirius sighed and stowed it back inside his jacket. Remus glanced at him with surprise, to which Sirius just cocked a rueful eyebrow in response.

Remus hesitated, then slid the mug over to Sirius. Grinning at his friend, Sirius grabbed up the mug and took a long draught, blinking in surprise at the rich taste. "Jeez, this lady really knows how to make her hot chocolate, even while Confounded," he said in surprise, sliding the mug back over to Remus.

Together they finished the drink, talking quietly about school, girls- both didn't have much to say on the subject- and what James and Lily were up to currently.

"Probably shagging on the couch," said Sirius with disdain as they left the cafe, but not before placing a small pile of Muggle change on their table and undoing his charm on the waitress. Remus looked pleased as they left, and Sirius felt a secret wave of triumph at the knowledge.

"What a shame," said Remus with a sigh, tucking his hands into his pockets. He looked much warmer after their break in the cafe. "I really liked that couch. Where will we sit now?"

"In the armchairs by the fire, I suppose," Sirius replied with a slight shrug. "Maybe we'll have to share." As he said this, he shot Remus a devious grin, making the teen blush and look away.

Chuckling to himself, Sirius glanced at his watch and swore softly. Eleven forty-five. Where had all their time gone?

"We should start heading back," Sirius informed Remus. "It's almost midnight."

"Almost Christmas," Remus murmured, as if to himself. Sirius grinned and held out his hand to the boy.

"C'mon, we can Apparate to Hogsmeade and walk back to the school," he said. Remus nodded and took his hand, slight and warm in his own. Sirius turned on the spot, and they vanished into the crushing darkness.

Reappearing in front of Honeydukes, its store window decorated cheerfully in preparation for Christmas, Sirius somewhat reluctantly released Remus' hand, and they began walking back to the front gates, where Filch was supposed to see them in and back to their dormitory.

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Sirius stared up at the sky. The snow clouds had cleared up somewhat, and patches of brilliant stars were visible in the inky blackness of the sky.

Hogwarts' front gates reared before them, and suddenly, Sirius didn't want to enter yet. He stopped under a small clump of trees, grabbing Remus' wrist to keep him from continuing on.

"What are you doing?" Remus asked, frowning up at him. Sirius opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, unsure of what to say.

"What did you say the title of your song meant again?" he blurted suddenly. Remus blinked, but answered him.

" _Liebestraum._ 'Love Dream' in German. Why?" he asked, sounding puzzled.

Sirius didn't actually know why, but, as his eyes traveled up the trunk of the tree they were standing under, they widened, and a devious glint came into them as he looked back at Remus.

"Oh, no reason," he answered cheerily. "Just thought it was fitting, you know." He let his eyes flick upward, and Remus' followed suit.

He gasped. Suspended above them, feeding off the life force of the tree they grew on, were sprigs of mistletoe. They were everywhere, covering the branches of the trees they stood under, glinting whitely in the reflected light from the snow.

"You can't mean..." Remus gasped, his face pale, attempting to back away. Sirius grabbed his wrist and pulled him closer.

"Oh yes, I do," he purred, nuzzling the werewolf's neck with his nose. An involuntary gasp escaped the boy, and Sirius chuckled, kissing his neck lightly before pulling back and staring into Remus' eyes.

"Remus," he said, using the teen's first name, something he rarely did, "what I am about to do- and I'm sure you know what- I sincerely hope you won't hate me for afterward." Carefully, as though he were afraid the boy might break if handled too roughly, Sirius cradled Remus' face in his hands and stroked his thumb over the soft skin. Remus stared up at him, waiting for his next move. His face was pale, but he wasn't backing away.

Taking heart from this, Sirius lowered his head slowly until their mouths were just barely touching. Remus closed his eyes.

Sirius kissed him gently, a large part of him still absolutely terrified of rejection, but it did not come. If anything, Remus actually leaned closer, deepening the kiss. Sirius wrapped his arms around the slim boy's waist, and slowly, those wondrous pianist's fingers he'd so longed to feel were running through his hair, skimming across his skin with the same sweetness as they would with the ivory keys he spent so much time with.

A bell tower began chiming in the distance. It was midnight. Sirius pulled back, slightly breathless and dizzy with happiness. "Merry Christmas," he whispered.

"Merry Christmas," Remus answered, a smile breaking across his face.


End file.
